The Forest of Mystery. Foster James H.

will. So long, Mr. Lewis, Dad.”

      The youths had been dressing during the conversation with their fathers, and now they were ready to get breakfast. After the meal, they would start out to see more of San Francisco and perhaps visit other cities across the bay.

      A half hour later they were walking down Market Street toward the Ferry Building, having decided to see the busy waterfront.

      It was no short distance to their destination, but they moved rapidly, dodging in and out among the crowd of shoppers. They were so interested in the sights about them that they found themselves almost without knowing it at the Ferry Building.

      “Now let’s go around to the docks,” suggested Bob. “I’d like to see the boats coming in from the Orient.”

      “Ought to see some,” Joe said. “There are a lot of steamship lines here.”

      Directly in back of the building were the ferry slips. Bob and Joe stopped a few minutes to watch passengers board a boat to Oakland. Then they continued around to the docks, where scores of vessels were anchored.

      Beside one dock was a huge liner almost ready to embark for Honolulu. The gangplank was being pulled in, ropes were loosened, and a general scene of excitement prevailed. Relatives and friends of the leavetakers waved hearty farewells as, with long blasts of the whistle, the ship slowly left the wharf.

      Bob and Joe watched closely as it steamed majestically out into the blue Pacific. Not far out there was the Golden Gate. Beyond this was the Orient, with all its lure, its beckoning.

      “I sure would give a lot to sail out on the Pacific,” sighed Bob, turning and walking on with his chum.

      Away on around Embarcadero Street the boys came to Fishermen’s Wharf, where their eyes met with a sight slightly different. At a miniature harbor were scores of Italian fishing vessels. Their crew were busily engaged in preparing the boats for sailing, or in unloading the huge cargoes of fish.

      “Look over here,” called Joe. “They’re selling fresh crab sandwiches. Let’s get some.”

      “O.K. What do they taste like?”

      The chums soon found out. A short, exceedingly fat man who always smiled served them with tempting steaming sandwiches in return for a meager sum. After the eventful morning they tasted delicious.

      As they ate, Bob and Joe walked back down past the docks, their eyes always ready to single out the unusual. Although they had been in many interesting cities, never had they been more captivated than now.

      Soon their attention was attracted by a coarse whistle, and looking around they saw a large freighter steaming up to the dock.

      Ordinarily the boys would have paid little or no attention to the ship, for they had often watched vessels arriving and departing. But this time they looked up in wonder.

      The freighter was listing badly to starboard and looked as though it were partly filled with water. How it kept from going over on its side was a puzzle to the chums.

      When the ship had entered the dock and was moored by several men who stood by waiting, the gangplank was lowered, and the captain walked down, followed by others of the crew.

      One of the men paused at the foot of the gangplank, and Joe took advantage of the opportunity.

      “What was the trouble?” the youth asked, desiring to know what misfortune had befallen the ship.

      “Struck a derelict,” was the reply. “It was an old clipper that was about rotted through. We can’t see yet how it got through the hull, but it did.”

      “But how did it happen that your ship didn’t sink?” Joe inquired, his curiosity thoroughly aroused.

      The sailor laughed.

      “Be pretty hard to sink the Southern Cross,” he said. “She’s got watertight compartments. When she gets a leak, all we have to do is close up the doors. It – Hullo, Red. Let’s get goin’.”

      With another of the crew, for whom he had been waiting, the seaman left the youths and moved on over to the dock.

      Bob and Joe stood for some time looking at the unfortunate vessel. Then, as nothing of further interest happened, they walked on around the harbor, absorbed in thought.

      The last few days had indeed been eventful to the chums. What did the future hold in store?

      CHAPTER V

      A Welcome Announcement

      “WELL, boys, we’re leaving San Francisco tomorrow,” said Mr. Lewis as he greeted the chums late that afternoon.

      “I’ll be glad to get back to Washington,” remarked Bob. “Of course, I’ve had a good time here – saw a lot of interesting sights and the like. But, after all – ”

      “There’s no place quite like home,” chimed in his father with a smile.

      “Especially with a trip to Africa in prospect,” Bob added.

      “Ah! That accounts for your ardent desire to leave, does it?” asked Mr. Lewis. “I wondered why you made that remark about wanting to get back to Washington.”

      Bob and Joe smiled.

      “That partly accounts for it,” came from Joe. “But, honestly, Dad, you don’t blame us, do you?”

      The youth hoped to corner his father, but the latter was more clever than he had imagined.

      “Not in the least,” Mr. Lewis answered quickly. “I would want to go to Africa if I were you.”

      Again the boys found themselves “stumped,” and again they were forced to drop the matter regarding the expedition to the Dark Continent. They could only hope for the best, remarked Bob as that night he retired.

      Early the next morning the chums and their fathers were up making preparations for the journey across the continent. They had everything in readiness by eight o’clock.

      In the hotel garage they were shown to Mr. Holton’s sedan. A porter had followed them with their grips, which were placed in the car’s trunk.

      The chums gazed out fondly at the last views they got of San Francisco. Then they settled themselves down for the long ride.

      Nothing of significance happened during the journey, and at last, after stops had been made at Denver, Kansas City, and a small city in Kentucky, they pulled into Washington.

      At their homes, which were located next door to each other, the four received a warm welcome from the youths’ mothers, Joe’s sister, and Bob’s small brother.

      “I sure enjoyed our stay in San Francisco,” remarked Bob that evening, as he sat on the porch with his father and chum.

      “Especially right at this time,” put in Joe. “I’m glad to get back.”

      “Why right at this time?” inquired Mr. Holton.

      “Because,” explained Joe, “there’s a circus in town. And as I haven’t been to a circus for quite a while, I’m going. How about you, Bob?”

      “It’s a go,” said Bob at once. “Let’s you and I drive over tomorrow in my new coupé. It’s a pip, all right.”

      “What, the circus, or the car?” grinned Mr. Holton.

      “Well, I don’t know about the circus,” said Bob. “But I know the car is. Anyway, I’d like to take a look at wild animals that were brought from Africa. Lions, leopards, and the like. Don’t you and Mr. Lewis want to go, Dad? We can put you in the rumble seat.”

      “Rumble seat, huh? Hmm. I’d want better service than that.” The naturalist viewed his son critically though with twinkling eyes. “No, we men won’t go to the circus,” he added with a grin. “But you boys can.”

      “Listen to that!” cried Bob, squaring his powerful shoulders. “I guess you men enjoy it about as much as anybody does. Now, you might,” he went